 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
197
I. ROBIN HOOD'S TOWN.
My eyes were full of that cliff-huddled home,With smoke, and sun, and shadow mistimpearled,
White as if some Atlantic billow curled
Had broke and clung, inhabitable foam.
There were the men who will no longer roam,
Tired of the sea, that wanders round the world,
Still cannot bid their sails be wholly furled,
And still must watch what vessels rise and come.
And as from shore I clomb the narrow street,
Thronged with its boats for safety thither brought,
By stairs perplexed and passages uneven,
But for the red red roofs of thy retreat,
Bold Robin Hood, I verily had thought
I gazed upon the sweetest scene in Devon.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |